Paradoxes and Prequels
by bobbymcfoogle
Summary: Donna and the Doctor get stuck in the nineties, leading to a meeting with a certain small, blonde girl. Could she be Rose?
1. Prologue

**This has just been floating around my head for a REALLY long time now. I hope I get a lot of reviews, as it has prevented me from doing my A2 English coursework! A worthy sacrifice methinks, in the name of a Doctor Who obsession.**

**Basically, in the heart-wrenching Doomsday scene on Bad Wolf Bay when Rose asks the Doctor if she'll ever see him again, he replies, "You can't." But does this mean that he could? In addition, when the Doctor and Jack are reunited towards the end of the third series, he makes a remark about going back to watch Rose growing up in the nineties. This is most definitely inspired in part by Black Alya Wolf's story, "_Dancing in the Rain_", although I will take credit for the fact that I had the idea before I read that!**

**Author's note: Set when the Doctor and Donna are travelling together. ****It is a stab in the dark that the Powell Estate is located in South London. My knowledge of London's geography really is pretty appalling, even though it was a case study for my AS Level Geog. Enjoy!**

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_The Day's Eye; South London's Guide to News, Sport and Entertainment_

_Monday 1__st__ January, 1995_

_Page 12_

_Reporter: Jonathan Dawn_

_Estate Flooded – Does South London Need a New Advisor?_

While people all over the city have just recovered from hangovers and headaches alike after last night's New Year celebrations, residents of the Powell Estate, Stockwell awoke to, if it's possible, even less savoury sights. The estate and houses around it flooded due to the antecedent rainfall following Boxing Day's heavy storm. Following these events, citizens and politicians are wondering whether a new Town Housing Minister for the borough is required. After the resignation of Harriet Jones to the Welfare Sector, it has been argued that John Perks is slipping up frequently, posing serious problems for Stockwell's inhabitants when housing is pushed to the back of issues dealt with.

Powell Estate residents awaiting relocation until further notice.

* * *

Donna really was thankful for her typing skills. They'd won her praise, admiration and, most importantly, envy from most of the other clerks she'd worked (ie competed) with throughout her career and had provided her with a set of skills to rival the fact that she wasn't _exactly_ Einstein. Nevertheless, having such fabulous vocational skills was definitely proving a drawback when stuck in the mid-nineties.

Recap. The TARDIS, tired after having been flung between millennia just a few too many times, had decided to go on strike. Right in the middle of one of the more … _eclectic_ decades. Oh, the nineties gave us a lot. Take That. Bomber jackets. Jelly shoes. The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Yep, the nineties had been one of Donna's favourite eras, especially as she had been living vicariously through her twenties, but everything just seemed so _grey_ now she was experiencing it a second time, now that is was lacking that fresh newness, or the rusty tinge of nostalgia one gets from looking back and reminiscing about simpler times.

They'd been there for almost three weeks, now. It took three days until the Doctor realised the situation was serious enough to warrant him and Donna to start attempting to survive; the emergency rations on board just weren't tasty enough, and, as it was late January, after all, and global warming still wasn't showing, the weather was bitterly cold. So, in need of new life and company, Donna had been cajoled into applying for (and getting – her skills really _were_ advanced for all those years ago) a job at the South London Town Housing Association, alias SLTHA.

Unfortunately, she hadn't anticipated that she'd be doing too much work. Bloody rain over Christmas meant that the office was inundated with "business"; old couples needing emergency housing, families with young children …

It was here that she first met Rose Tyler.

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**What did you think?**


	2. Chapter 1

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"Name?"

"Jackie Tyler." The woman looked tired, downtrodden. Her peroxide hair, moussed inexpertly, made her whole persona seem even more depressing. Or maybe it was just the woeful expression on her face, or the bereft-looking child clutching her hand? Donna felt bad for her – she'd always lived in a warm, cosy house and felt like these sorts of events were problems of Third World Countries and times gone by, not twentieth century London.

Donna gave her as sympathetic look as she could muster without seeming patronising, and carried on filling out the woman's application for temporary housing before the flats were fixed again.

"How many of you are there?"

"It's just me and Rose."

"Is she a Tyler, too?"

"Yep."

_Rose Tyler._ Donna wrote down the name.

"We'll see what we can do."

* * *

On her walk back to the TARDIS, Donna mulled over the day's events. There'd been a couple of minor incidents; Trish, the woman who worked in the booth next door to her had had some issues with a particularly rowdy man and during the lunch break there'd been a trip to the local pub where she had witnessed another brawl (did nothing but violence go on in this decade?).

Even so, there was one thing she couldn't get out of her head.

_Rose Tyler. _Rose Tyler. Why did it sound so familiar?

The Doctor, her Doctor; the friend he'd lost had been called Rose. But there must be so many people in London who had that name! Donna didn't know _anything_ substantial about her, so why did she feel like that woman and her child were so significant?

She weighed up the evidence.

What had the Doctor told her?

Rose was from London. She had a family, who lived in London. He'd spent Christmas with them. Then, she disappeared without a trace and ended up stuck on a parallel world. Fat lot of good that was.

This Rose. The small, vulnerable child. This one … how old could she be? Eight, maybe nine if Donna was generous. She had a mother, Jackie. She was blonde, looked like she'd be a looker when she was older. She lived on the Powell Estate.

But what good was that? Donna didn't know how old Rose had been when she and the Doctor had travelled together; she didn't know what year he'd picked her up, anything. Even if she had, it wouldn't have helped. Donna was rubbish at maths.

_The Powell Estate._ That's what he said! The day they first met, her wedding day; they sat on a roof and he pointed over to …

"_I spent Christmas over there. The Powell Estate. With this … family. My friend, she had this family. Well, they were … still. Gone now."_

Donna might have lacked mathematical capabilities, but she knew there was _every_ chance that this child could be Rose.

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	3. Chapter 2

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"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

Donna had been thinking about how she could discuss this with the Doctor for a very long time now. Two days ago, she met a little girl who she thought might be Rose. But how could she tell him? She didn't want to worry him, not when he seemed so happy right now. He hadn't seen anyone die in a long time and due to this temporary standstill things had been particularly … standard. And, even if Donna was right in her suspicions, what could anyone do? It's not as though the Doctor would be getting Rose back, she was just a child! But her curiosity was triumphing over whatever other sense she had, and she wanted to know more.

"Donna? Were you going to finish that query?"

"Oh, sorry. What are we doing for supper?"

She just needed to find out how to ask him …

* * *

They dined in the TARDIS that night. Bread and soup; one major drawback of time travel was that they hadn't made much money, even with Donna's new job. Satiated and relaxed, she thought this would be the time to broach the subject. She took a deep breath.

"Doctor – you know your friend, Rose?"

He suddenly became very still. "Yes," he murmured in a monotone.

"When was she born?"

"Why?"

"I was just wondering … you know, the ages of your other companions. I know I'm no spring chicken …" _What? What kind of cover was that? _Donna thought to herself.

"Well, Martha is about twenty, twenty-one. Rose – she was nineteen when we first met."

Silence.

"When was that?"

"Two thousand and five."

She noticed that he answered quickly.

"You still miss her, don't you?"

"Why the sudden interest?"

"Oh, no reason." She couldn't tell him. Not yet. But if her calculations were correct, there was every possible chance that Donna had found her. Just ten years too early …

* * *

She walked along the hard, grey pavement towards the substandard flats where the Powell residents had been relocated. Gathering her coat around her and holding her bag tightly, she braced herself. _Flat 4A. _That was where the Tylers were living now.

Donna had come here on a whim. Her insatiable nosiness was too much to bear. She ascended the roughly carpeted stairs to the fourth floor, where she found the apartment she was looking for. She took a deep breath and knocked three times on the cold wooden door.

Jackie, Rose's mother, opened the door.

"Hello?"

"Hi!" Donna exclaimed with a cheery, professional grin. "Donna Noble! I'm a representative from the SLTHA. I'm just here to find out how you're getting on in the new accommodation. Can I come in, please?"

Jackie Tyler gave her the once over, suspiciously. "Alright, but you can't stay too long. I've got to go to a customer's house."

Donna stared at her, aghast.

"Not that kind of customer, you plum! I'm a _hairdresser_."


	4. Chapter 3

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"Do you want a cup of tea?" Jackie called from the kitchen-section of the main room of the flat. Donna, needing a reason to stay longer than five minutes, said that yes, she would very much like one.

Sitting down on the settee opposite Jackie, warm mug in hand, she realised she actually had to _ask_ some questions now.

"So! How are you settling in here?"

"Well, considering what it is, alright, I'd have said."

"Excellent." She paused. "And … Rose?"

Before an answer could be given, the little blonde girl burst through the front door, gasping.

"Speak of the devil …" Jackie sighed. "Rose! Do you mind? We've got visitors!"

"Hello!" She cried then darted off, under the kitchen counter.

"Is that how we treat guests?"

"Mu-um! I'm playing hide and seek! Jim's on it and Mickey told me he hits you if he finds you!"

"Rose?"

Rose marched over to where they were sitting and held out her hand, a gesture too grown up for her years. "How do you do!" she exclaimed. Donna laughed and Jackie looked exasperated.

"I'm just fine. How are you?"

* * *

Sitting in their flat, Donna warmed to the Tylers. Rose decided that she didn't care if Jim found her and beat her up, because she was talking to the nice lady with red hair, so she sat next to her mother and joined in the conversation.

Throughout this 'interview', Donna learnt a number of things about Rose.

She wanted to be a gymnast when she grew up. Her favourite subject was English. Her best friend was called Mickey, but she thought he could be a pain. Last week, she fell off a wall and grazed her knee. She loved her mum, who ran a hairdressing business from home, which had been temporarily put on standby as they wouldn't be getting there home back for another three weeks. Her dad died when she was a baby and her mum hadn't dated since. She didn't like wearing skirts. She had never been abroad.

Donna knew this was the Doctor's Rose. She just _knew _it. How could she not be? She seemed brave, kind and bright; the kind of person he would want with him. Plus, how many Roses could there be in a place like this? It may have just been the atmospheric weather and wet greyness, but the area was _so_ bleak. There couldn't have been more than one ray of sunshine in a place like this, more than one winter rose.

When the time came to leave, Donna couldn't help but feel melancholy. It was like glimpsing the past – not just the technical, time-that-happened-before past – it was like seeing what someone was like before travelling with the Doctor, seeing how a person can be both enlightened and corrupted from all those amazing experiences. And she knew that Rose still had this to go.

Standing up, Jackie said, "Well, Donna, I guess we'll see you around."

"Yes," she smiled. "You will."

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**Not quite finished yet! Please leave a review.**


	5. Chapter 4

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Donna Noble walked back along the pavement, through the old estate to find the alley leading to the high street and her office. She paced through the Powell playground, noticing the harsh graffiti on the walls. Some kid had gone a bit mad writing "Bad Wolf" over every square inch. Clearly someone had a fairytale fetish. The daylight was fading and the sun could barely be seen. Donna's breath was visible in the twilight air; streams of opaque mist fogging up her vision.

"Miss! Miss! DONNA!"

A shrill, tiny voice boomed out across the otherwise empty playground. Donna whirled around and, to her surprise, saw Rose sprinting towards her, holding out her black, leather handbag.

She caught up to her and reached out to pass her the bag.

"You – forgot – your- bag …" she managed, between heavy breaths.

"Oh! Thank you, thanks so much, Rose. Are you alright?"

"Yes … I'm just tired from running, that's all."

"Where's your mum?"

"She had to go and see her client. I wanted to make sure you got your bag."

Donna noticed the intense look of loneliness on Rose's face. Such a lonely little girl; sure, she had friends, but her and her mother's situation clearly meant that in order to make ends meet, sacrifices had to be made.

"That's lovely of you. Make sure you don't stop that …"

"Stop what?"

"Doing good things for people."

Rose smiled. Donna understood, then. Why the Doctor had taken her with him. Her smile really was beautiful and charming and glowing. "Why don't you practise running, too?"

"That's what he said."

"Who?"

"The man I spoke to – last week and yesterday. He told me to start running more. I wouldn't know when I'd need to next. John Smith, he was called. He was really nice."

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	6. Epilogue

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Their time in the nineties was coming to a close. The Doctor stood by the TARDIS's console, pressing buttons and switching dials, waiting for Donna to arrive so that they could just leave.

He couldn't tell her, she'd be too mad. They hadn't _exactly_ been stuck there … he'd sort of planned a trip to this decade and ended up wanting to stay a little longer than planned.

He _knew_ Rose would be there. He just knew it. Only he hadn't counted on her being so hard to find …

He couldn't help it that he wanted to see her. He missed her so, so much and anything was better than nothing. Still, he couldn't have spent too much time with her otherwise she would recognise him when she saw him regenerate.

At least until his next regeneration …

And he was glad he gave her that advice. He'd always admired how much she embraced the running aspect of their adventures. He didn't care what the Gallifreyans thought; intervening in fixed events couldn't be_ all_ bad. 

**The End**

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